


Confronting Reality

by Piripulix300



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angry FP, Face Punching, Friendship, Gen, Gloomy jughead, Multi, Suspense, Tension, ends well don't worry, fred is a cool dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-09 19:59:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13488705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piripulix300/pseuds/Piripulix300
Summary: Set at the end of 1x08. Jughead knows that his father had Jason's jacket. Now he has to confront his dad about it. In which FP's not a good father, and Archie's a good friend.Just an excuse to write sadness stuff.





	1. Jason's jacket and the consequences

Sometimes, it is better to stay blind than to discover the truth. In fact, I am sure I would have been better without knowing that my dad was a drunken ass, but just like the later, some truth can't be ignored. Jason Blossom's death was not a truth people could ignore. And with the murderer still on the loose, people were looking for the truth more intensely than before.

Some realities would be faced this night. Some truth would be spilled, and I wanted nothing more than to stay in the dark. But this was concerning me. It was between me and my dad. I knew I could not stay in the dark any longer.

 

 

Jughead Jones pushed the door to his father's caravan. He had come here more often in the last weeks than in the last year, but it was still hard to enter a beer bottle-filled dump. Emerging from the couch, his father immediately rose, attempting to hide -too late- another bottle from his son's view. The teenager did as if he hadn't seen it. 

“Hey! Jughead.” His father smirked. “It's late. What you doin here at this time?”

“I have questions.”

The hooded-boy had decided not to care about anything anymore. His father wanted to play it cool? He would show him cool: cold-blooded interrogation. He entered, leaving the door to close itself, and stopped two feet from his father, crossing his arms in front of him to express more than his usual expression of disinterest. His father seemed to understand that this was not a time to be trivial.

“Where did you find Jason's jacket?"

FP did not budge. He took a sharp intake of air but his facial expression did not convey anything. He had a long experience of not-showing-any-emotion-to-anyone. On this point, he and his son were on the same level. Sometimes, FP believed that it was the only common characteristic they had. So instead of displaying fear and forfeit, he showed interrogation and a bit of anger.

“His _what_ now? Do I look like a guy collecting jackets?"

“Don't try to show me off, I know you had it.”

“And that makes you think I did it?"

Jughead paused to ponder. He would have believed his dad if he had said he didn't do it, but with everything happening at the moment, and with his paternal being so  _ vague _ about everything, he couldn't be sure. Especially since Kevin came by his locker one day and asked him why his father had Jason's jacket with him. Apparently, Joaquin had given it to him, saying that he knew what to make of it. Now he was left to wonder why, although a small part of him already knew. He settled on believing him. At least in the meantime. 

“I want to believe you, but you have to give me more.” He answered. “Why did you have it?”

He felt like he was repeating himself again and again, but this time FP was quick to answer. He quickly lifted his head and took his bottle up from the coffee table where he had left it. He took a sip before answering, more relaxed than before.

“One of my Serpent's found the poor boy's jacket in the forest. Gave it to me 'cause he didn't want to be caught with it."

“It was in his car. By the forest. Next to the drug. And it still was when we discovered it. Before the fire y' know?”

“Guess he lied.”

The hesitation in his father's voice was inexistent yet the teen stayed silent a moment, before uncrossing his arms and taking the bottle away from his father, putting it down on the closest table.

“ _You_ lied to me, don't play dumb.” Jughead was still very serious, but his nerves were starting to take the better of him. He usually never loses his temper like this. “The drugs. You said the Serpents gave them to him. The car was in flames right after we found it! Don't tell me you have nothing to do with this.”

“The drug? Is that why you ask _me_ why I had it?”

“Can you please answer the damn question?!”

He had raised his voice. Damn if that never happened. 

“Calm down, son. I took care of it. You don't have to worry about getting arrested anymore.”

Jughead found it unbelievable that his father knew so little of him. Of course, he didn't want to be arrested, but that was not the point here. He was already cleared of suspicion. His father must be hiding something from him.

“You think getting arrested is worse than knowing there's a murderer in Riverdale? Dad, tell me. You took Jason's jacket out of his car, didn't you?"

He met the blank expression of his father staring right back at him. The aforesaid father took a step back, switched off the TV that was harassing both of their ears and kept his back turned from his son a minute, before facing him again.

“It was for the greater good. I don't want you involved in that kind of trouble, Jug. The Serpents, the drugs, the murder. If the sheriff had found the car, it would have led to us. We don't want that."

“Don't you care about Jason at all? That maybe you have been holding a proof that could incriminate the real culprit?”

“They don't _want_ to find the real culprit, they want to see _us_ behind bars!”

Jughead paused, lowering his head.

“Are you still talking about us or are you talking about the Serpents...”

He didn't raise his voice, didn't make his father believe it was a question when the answer was so clear in his head. He was tempted to believe his father's innocence, he really was, but here, surrounded by the bottles and the Serpent's belongings, he couldn't. Jughead turned away, facing the door again.

“Wow, where you goin'?" FP asked. 

“Archie's.”

“You won't...” His father was restless now. “tell him, right?”

“No...” He halted briefly, taking his phone out of his pocket. “I already did.”

FP took a second to wonder how deep in shit he was now, before uttering a “WHAT?” more surprised than indignant. Jughead looked at him with eyes wider than he ever had. His father took a menacing step toward him, and the young boy stopped typing to observe him carefully.

“'D'you know how long it took me to regain a _stable_ situation and become the Serpent's _chief_? You want to ruin everything by telling your _dog_?”

“Hey, stop that.” Jughead frowned. “Archie's a good pal.”

He was better than a 'good pal' in truth, but he had no time to argue since his father didn't seem to listen to him anymore. 

“I don't care! You're ruining my plan!” FP yelled.

“You have a plan?”

“You're ruining everything, as always!”

“Now, that's a breather. ” Jughead said, sarcastically. “I was really hoping _not_ to make the situation easy for us.”

“SHUT UP!”

FP paced the small room, storming past every object and not caring if pens and papers ended up on the floor. He was obviously thinking about a new plan, so Jughead thought the conversation was over and that it was the perfect moment for him to leave his father to his thinking. Archie was waiting for him outside, after all. He had just come to confront him about the jacket, he didn't plan on staying much longer. He would investigate on his father's "plan" later, now was not the time. Jug pushed the door slightly but before he could do anything more, a hand grabbed his collar.

“Oh no, you're not leaving this house. I don't want you to go tell on the rooftops that Forsythe Pendleton Jones had the dead kid's jacket with him.”

“Now you're being paranoid. I'm not the one to trumpet my success if this was even one."

“But you'll tell Andrews and your girlfriend too.”

Betty? He didn't want her to get involved but... he guessed that now that they were together, he had to tell her too. After all, he didn't want to have another stupid secret tearing up their relation.

“You're _not_ leaving until I found a solution.”

“Yeah, well dream on.”

Jughead brought his hand up to the door, but before he could do anything, he had his collar grabbed once again and he was jerked to the wall. The caravan shook completely. For the first time since the beginning of the evening, the teen could see his father's face wholly. It was emotionless, yet a spike of anger torn the corner of his mouth down. He violently took Jughead's phone from his hands and crashed it on the ground.

“Hey!”

Jughead shook himself free to retrieve his poor mobile.

“If you leave...”

“Yeah, what'll you do?”

Jughead saw his father's fist, his head smacked the wall and his body went down along it. In the first time, he heard the impact more than he felt it. Only then the power of the assault caught up with him. His head was resonating with the impact of the wall and he was left breathless, trying to find out what happened and why there was blood in his mouth. He raised a hand to his face. His whole left cheek was on fire. 

Jughead was gradually figuring out that his father had punched him. He was still spread on the floor, his phone on the ground next to him. There was no more sound echoing in the small room. His father had apparently stopped pacing. Now that he could see him again, he looked as shocked as him. The thin wall of the caravan allowed him to hear footsteps outside. He really didn't want to have to deal with more problems now. 

“Jug, I... ” FP tried to explain himself, but the words died on his lips.

Interrupting the scene, the door burst open. Archie was standing there, studying the scene with panicked eyes. 

“What happened? I saw the caravan shake and...”

His vision landed on Jug on the floor, then on the adult which still had his fist in a ball, and Archie saw red. Without thinking, he grabbed Jug's arm and lifted him from the ground with more force than necessary. He utters a quick "Let's move" before rushing out of the caravan, Archie preceding his friend, the two of them still full of adrenaline, leaving a stunned FP behind. 

Not far from here, Archie's car was still growling with the engine on and the ginger dashed his way to it. Jughead was limp, and with every spontaneous movement that the red-haired boy made his body was jerked forward, lead by the hand grabbing his sleeve. 

Instinctively, he opened and entered the car, slamming the door with force. He was not buckled up yet that the car was already leaving the parking lot, and the caravan slowly became nothing more than a building crushed by the other ones as they left the area, car driving like hell through the dark alleys of the city.

“What was that?”

Archie did not leave the eyes of the road, and Jughead stared at him an instant before answering.

“He hit me...”

He was talking to himself more than answering the question. Archie's hands clutched the wheel, mouth twisted with a cringe. He wanted to argue, but he knew that this was not the right moment. He was respectful enough not to ramble about everything he had in mind.

“I believed him Arch, and he hit me...” Jughead suddenly spoke.

Archie couldn't stay silent any longer.

“Don't. Please. Don't try anymore.”

“You're saying he's not worth it?”

Archie knew the right answer and he hoped that his friend would agree. The boy has already suffered too much.

“He is, maybe, but it's not your problem to deal with. Not anymore. Please.”

The beanie-boy looked up to his friend. Archie was giving him pleading looks on small intervals.

“But who will?”

“I don't know. Let it be. Please, Jughead...”

He bit the inside of his cheek. He wanted him to be safe, he wanted him to feel good, he wanted them to laugh again. He wanted Jason's murder not to be the reason why they had started talking again. His eyes focused on Jughead and he said:

“...Come home.”

 


	2. Clarification needed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set at the end of 1x08. FP punched his son out of the blue, but both of them seem to be shocked about it. Jughead was helped by Archie but doesn't know what to do about his father.   
> In which family is a word that has a lot of meaning.

Jughead Jones is not my real name. I have the name of my father, but I would not honor you by t elli ng it to you so bluntly. Do some research, instruct yourself, go ask people in the street. I'm sure everyone knows. After all, everyone knows the Southside Serpents and heard about their chief at least once.

At first, I didn't know why he called me after him. Was it with pride or with the hope that I would rejoin their gang someday? Well after the recent events, I am sure pride was not the reason for my name. "Always use the proper name for things, Harry. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself." My name didn't carry fear, it carried a heritage. And possibly a gore, bloody one.

 

The car jumped on the road once again, eager to return to Andrew's household. The two young boys inside had a truly different matter of problems to think of.

Jughead was not paying attention anymore. After accepting to follow his friend, he had closed his mouth shut for the rest of the trip. The possibility carried by the lack of answer of his father, and the punch he had received... That was not something he had ever imagined. His father was a crook and a gang boss, but he loved his son and he would not kill anyone. Would he? He could comprehend why he wanted to protect himself, he could overlook many things, but the punch.

God, the punch.

Jughead breathed out hard, creating a circle of condensation on the car window. His eyes focused on it a few seconds before drifting out of the real world once again.

Archie did not disturb him. His friend seemed deeply lost in his thoughts and the redhead knew better than to trouble him. Everyone else would have loved some distraction, but not Jughead. If Archie knew one thing about his friend, it was that he would prefer loneliness over having company when dealing with things. Archie's contrary. He would never figure him out. Years of best-friendship have only taught him that Jughead's problems were his to deal caught. If he wanted to talk about them, he would. If not, he would go lurk in a corner until he found a solution.

Yet he could not help but stare at the already swollen cheek of his friend. He should have been there earlier. Shit, he should have  _come_ with him in the first place. The Jones' family have kept going downhill since god knows when. Not that his friend would have ever told him. There was only one thing he could do and it was to make him feel welcome at home. A small compensation, but it would do in the meantime. 

 

The two boys went home, and Fred greeted them. He lost his smile when he saw that the atmosphere was grim. Jughead went straight to bed. He knew that he was being grumpy and that his presence would bring a discomforting awkwardness at the table. He let Archie fill his father in with the details of the small scene he had come across. It would surely be full of incoherence and misinterpretation, but he didn't have the courage to stay downstairs to correct him. He would sleep on it and decide later. He was so tired.

 

The morning was uneventful. Betty came, but it didn't help bring the smile back on Jughead's lips. The two friends made sure Jug did not have any more problems. Well, if you could call “not hearing from your dad anymore” a solution. Jughead's phone mysteriously disappeared, which meant that no text or call could be heard from his dad. Fred took care of the home phone. Jughead pretended not to notice. Why would he need the line anyway? He was perfectly fine in his seclusion.

The three friends went to Pop's to eat, and the trip was probably the most fun they had.

Ironically of course.

They bought him the biggest and the meatiest burger they found on the meal, Jughead's favorite. Apparently, Pops himself was involved in the young boy's rehabilitation. Honestly, it was tiring how hard they tried.

 

Jughead was eating slowly. He knew he was being a bore but there was nothing much he could do at the moment anyway. He just hoped people would stop trying to cheer him up. Finally, the center of interest switched, and his friends started to talk about their day and what happened in the small city of Riverdale. Perfect. He could rest now. However, his relief was short-lived and Jughead understood that he would have to face the facts sooner than expected when the doorbell jingled and caught his interest.

He froze. His father had just entered, closely followed by Archie's own father, and he was acting like a madman, shaking his head left and right, searching with eagerness for… Shit. He was looking for him.

Just at this moment, FP saw him and started to power walk to them. Jughead involuntarily tried to hide behind his burger.

Not now. Not ever. He didn't want to.

Oh god, the punch…

"Jug! Here you are my boy. I have something to say..."

"Sorry" Fred interrupted. "I tried to stop him but…"

"For crying a'loud Fred, lemme talk to my son!"

FP raised his hands menacingly towards Fred, and silence dropped in the small fast food restaurant. Archie looked a bit alarmed at first but Jughead was concentrated on his father, and his friend's actions remained a blur to him. The other clients were as surprised as Fred, who backed away a bit. FP paused until he was sure that Fred will not interrupt him anymore, then he slowly turned to make his way to Jughead.

"Jug, son..."

His feet stopped, his mouth wavered, but this time there was no one to cut him. Jughead was as still as possible. He never showed fear to his father, mostly because he didn't need to, but today was different. He didn't want to act weird but, heh, weird was kinda the norm for him. Was playing dead too much? Was running away too little? His indecision led him to wait. Wait and see. He was not a frightened animal cornered by a bear, but he sure felt like it.

"Jug, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to... You know."

He was standing there, panting slowly. Finding his words was difficult.

"Please, I'm sorry."

Jughead kept his mouth shut and his fist clenched. He couldn't accept an apology like that. His father knew it. He needed explanation.

No one dared to move. Jug turned his face towards the window, tightening his jaw. He was waiting for his father to elaborate, but FP was still pondering. He knew he would have to ask to have an answer so he blurted out a question that startled everyone.

"Dad, is there blood on our name?"

It was abrupt and unexpected. He regretted asking it but now that it was done, all he had to do was wait. The worst thing would be getting no response at all because that would be an answer in itself. A strong "yes son, I did kill someone". Whoever it was was Jughead's last problem if FP kept his mouth shut. So yes, he was afraid of not having an answer as much as having one.

He was painfully aware of the gasps his friends made and the way his hand twitched when FP called him.

"Forsythe."

Jughead turned to face his father. FP was looking straight at him, daring Jughead to look at him in the eye.

For the second time in two days, his father surprised him. He didn't expect to not have an answer.

"Never."

The small word changed everything. Instantly, Jughead shined. When FP was serious, he was always dead serious, whatever it was. Jughead believed him instantly. His father was not a murderer. He saw it in his eyes, his father was telling the truth. That was all he needed to know.

Then, it happened in the blink of an eye. Jughead got up. His father came to him. He got out of his booth. FP opened his arms a bit, stayed still, and Jug buried himself in the hug. The leather of his jacket creaked under the hold.

"I'm sorry son..." His father moaned, loud enough for only Jughead to hear. "I promise I'll change."

Jughead said nothing. He kept quiet and clenched his fists even more if doing so was possible. He squared his jaw, frowning.

"Give me a month. Two, and I'll be a new man. I won't do bad Jug, I promise."

Tears were coming to Jughead's eyes. His hold tightened up. He couldn't say anything, but his father knew that it was alright now. When they broke the hug, they looked at each other with renewed hope.

Jughead nodded energetically. He couldn't speak but his head was obeying just fine. FP understood him. He smiled, happy that his son was giving him a second chance.

"You coming home?"

The teen nodded once again. He was ready to follow his father wherever he went and end this situation in the calm. Archie and Betty looked at him with concern but he couldn't face their gaze. He nodded in their general direction, and they seemed to understand. Betty actually smiled at her red-headed friend. Fred looked like a deer caught in headlights. With a little apprehension he invited FP to join them to have dinner, but the man was holding his son tight and knew when it was time to go. Jughead had dried his tears. He looked at his family. The one that had supported him through this small ordeal. His eye landed on Archie. His friend was smiling at him.

"Arch, I'm going back with my dad... Thanks man. You're the best."

"No prob Jug. See you later?"

"See you later."

And they left.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! This fic was meant to be a 3 chapter long one but I had no idea about how to write the last one without repeating myself.  
> Hope you enjoyed it! Don't forget you can leave a message to tell me what I did right / wrong. That would help for my future fics.  
> Thanks again, bye!

**Author's Note:**

> Don't worry boys, the sadness is not over yet. You still have a full chapter to suffer through.


End file.
